Where's Your Green?
by zanthia122
Summary: St. Patrick's Day is Seamus' favorite day of the year, but guess who likes it also? Just a short, random St. Patrick's Day drabble for everyone, both finding green enticing or revolting alike. Enjoy!


Disclaimer: Anything in the Harry Potter universe and the St. Patrick's Day does not belong to me. I own only the plot and Seamus' shamrock hat.

A/N: Happy St. Patrick's Day!

* * *

"Oww! Bloody hell! What's that for, Seamus?"

Ron rubbed his bruised cheek, wincing painfully and feeling his drowsiness disappearing. He glared at the wizard in front of him, and winced again, this time not so much from the sting in his cheek than his eye. Because the sight in front of him was truly one dreadful to behold. Seamus Finnigan frowned in his sparkly green robes and shoes, a gigantic shamrock-shaped hat bobbling dangerously on his head. Ron closed his eyes hastily; he felt as if the green was burning his retinas.

"Where's your green?" Seamus demanded.

"What?"

"I say, where's your green?"

"What frigging _green?_" Ron shouted, not being a particularly morning person. Plus, he had just been pinched really hard on the face.

"It's St. Patrick's DAY!" Seamus bellowed, then chuckled in a maniac sort of way, and pulled out his wand which was wrapped in green paper. "_Dé vuelta al verde!_"

_Poof._ Ron could literarily _feel_ something passed through him, but he didn't know what. He watched fearfully as Seamus walked away in all his green glory, still crackling madly.

"Good morning, Ron," Hermione greeted as she walked past him, smiling angelically. "A bit into the festive spirits, aren't we?"

"Huh?" He responded stupidly.

She placed a hand over her mouth, and her eyes sparkled knowingly. Then she, too, walked away.

"Hey, mate," a voice drifted from behind Ron. He turned and saw Harry, a look of dismay on his face.

"Hey-ho, Harry."

"You've met Seamus already, eh? I tried to come and warn you."

"Warn me of what?"

"Your hair, Ron. Your hair."

Harry produced a mirror from his robes and gave it to Ron, who shrieked at the sight of his headful of green hair.

"Circe! What hap- Hermione! She saw me like this!"

"Oh mate, yours aren't too bad," Harry patted his near-hysterical best friend darkly on the shoulder, and showed him his hands. "He gave me green nail polish."

* * *

By the afternoon of the day, Seamus wasn't too happy. For one thing, most of his housemates had forgotten the infamous Irish holiday and failed to put on a green attire, forcing him to pinch them and hex them. For another, Dumbledore seemed to have forgotten as well and the Great Hall was not decorated in green and shamrocks as he had hoped, and there wasn't a St. Patrick's Ball or even a parade. For still another, most of the Slytherins _were_ in their usual green robes, striping him of the opportunity to pinch or hex them, because his spell would not work on someone who already had some green on.

Therefore, when Seamus caught Crabbe freed of green, he took huge pleasure in turning his teeth into the color of broccoli. Unfortunately, Crabbe was either color-blind, or he was too stupid to appreciate the curse. All in all, he seemed to like them that way, and went around grinning and showing off his teeth, scarring a many students for life.

When the Griffindors and Slytherins filed down into the dungeons for Potions, Seamus was feeling miserable and homesick. He wished that his Dad was here. Though he was a Muggle, at least he loved St. Patrick's Day and the Irish Drinking Song. The Slytherins tittered behind them, pointing at the Griffindors' assorted showcase of various shades of green.

When he sat down, however, he felt slightly better at the thought of hexing Snape. The bat of a man was never in anything other than black, and it would be fun to turn his eyebrows into green. And if he was feeling brave, his hooked nose as well.

_Bam, _so when the heavy doors were pushed open, Seamus was again in his gleeful mood, until he turned-

and saw Snape in a dark-green dress robe with white laces around the cuffs. Not only this, but he actually had a four-leaved clover pin pinned on his collar. Despite his unusual clothing, he swept to the front of the classroom with the same efficiency and glared at them, daring anyone of them to emit a sound.

"Eep." Neville said.

Snape's wand was faster than any of their eyes. Before they could blink, it was out and pointing at Neville's throat.

"Longbottom, do you want to s-"

But before he could finish the sentence, he was hit by someone in his midriff.

"Ooof!" He growled as his wand clattered to the floor.

"Professor!" Seamus squealed, circling both his arms around the momentarily disabled Potions Master, and looked up to beam at him, promptly stuffing his shamrock hat into Snape's big nose.

Most of the students grimaced and looked away, some closing their eyes and cursed- the sight of two fully-dressed-in-green wizards embracing was very, very disturbing. Zabini Blaise yelped and fell into his empty cauldron.

"Get off me, you imbecile," Snape snarled, pushed the still-beaming Seamus off and dusted his robes. Then he said, "Five points from Griffindor, Weasley. Pick up your jaw."

"W-w-why why why I-I, I have ne-never thought, Pro-pro-professor that you're I-Irish!" Seamus stammered, fingering Snape's robe admiringly. Snape slapped his hand away.

"I am not, Mr. Finnigan," he said coolly. "I just happen to like the color green."

With that, he awarded ten points to Seamus for belonging to the country from which his favorite day originated, and a point to everyone because he was in a good mood.

_The End

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